Mix up a barrel of sand and ashes and thorns, and jam scorpions
and rattlesnakes along in, and dump the outfit on stones, and heat
the stones red hot; and set the United States army loose over the
place chasin' Apaches; and you've got San Carlos.
--U. S. SOLDIER, _in Harper's Magazine_.
And I suppose so it was; the task was really ended when the idea came
in. A strong protector for his darling when his own care should fail,
had been the longing in Mr. Erskine's heart for many a day, and Magnus
Kindred had always been second only to Cherry in his heart. Yet to give
her up before the time, and, instead of leaving her, to have her leave
him, it was sharp enough. No wonder he knit his brows now and then in
the midst of all the gaiety, and almost put out a hand between his
child and this youngster who claimed such rights and took them with
such assurance. No wonder if he frowned a little now, to-day, as Magnus
came whistling up, and throwing himself down on a lower step of the
porch, waited for the older man to speak.
But for a while the silence was unbroken, as Mr. Erskine made a sort
of final examination; obliged to come back to the judgment he had
given weeks ago, that Charlemagne Kindred was "a splendid fellow." The
critical eyes could find no fault.
Very serious the face was now, as he sat there looking off, schooling
himself to patient waiting, once in a while almost starting up at
some sound of Cherry's voice or step within the house. I am afraid
Mr. Erskine took a malign pleasure in keeping him where he was. The
malignity was not deep, however, for once, when some scrap of a song
floated down from an open upstairs window, there came a look over the
face of Cadet Charlemagne Kindred--a sudden light and love and joy--to
which the father's eyes gave such sympathetic answer that he was fain
to screen them with his hand.
"Well, young sir," he began at last, "I suppose you want to know what I
have to say to you?"
"Yes, sir. Furlough ends next week," Magnus answered, without looking
round.
"Then back for two years more?"
"Back for two years, sir."
"Magnus, what sort of an inner life have you lived at West Point? They
have made a soldier of you outwardly; we can all see so much; but it is
possible for a man to be that, and yet have no soldier's heart within."
Magnus coloured deeply.
"Yes, sir," he said. "I know it. And that has been true of me a few
times, Mr. Erskine. Never but once in any great thing."
"There are no little things in right and wrong, boy."
"No, sir. I should have said, in what people call great."
Mr. Erskine was silent with sudden pain; he had not looked for such an
answer. Then Magnus turned round, and sat facing him, looking full up.
"I have told Cherry the whole thing, straight through," he said; "and
now I will tell you, sir, if you wish."
Mr. Erskine drew a breath of relief. If he had told Cherry, it could be
nothing very bad; and that he _had_ told her half cleared it away.
"No, do not tell me," he said. "If Cherry knows, that is enough. But,
Magnus, I never expected _you_ to lack the soldier heart!"
The boy's eyes flushed, and his lips were unsteady as he said:
"Nor I, sir. You cannot possibly be half so disappointed in me as I was
in myself."
There was a long pause. What that bit of schooling was to Magnus it
would be hard to describe; but he said not a word to shorten it. With
head well up, and eyes looking gravely off at the fair landscape, of
which they saw not a thing, so he sat; and Mr. Erskine watched him. His
whole heart went out to the boy in tenderness and up for him in prayer.
Not a hero in his own right, perhaps, but a better, stronger thing is
the man whom God keeps, and who trusts the Lord for all power to keep
himself.
"The people that know their God, shall be strong and do exploits."
"You told Cherry," the elder man began at length. "And what did Cherry
say?"
"Broke my heart into little pieces," said Magnus briefly.
It was Mr. Erskine's turn to have wet eyes, though he smiled too.
"So!" he said. "My boy, did you ever realise that you might break _her_
heart?"
"Don't ask me to realise it any more than I do, sir," Magnus answered,
with a troubled voice. "You see she minds things that some people call
trifles."
"Like a true woman," said Mr. Erskine. "I am glad she does."
"So am I!" said Magnus, with hearty emphasis. "There is not a thing
about her that I am not glad of. But I have told her everything, Mr.
Erskine," he added, "and she forgives me."
"Like a woman again," thought the father. "And she is ready to go with
you to San Carlos?"
"I don't know why you will persist in sending me there, sir," Magnus
said, with just a touch of impatience. "That seems to be your
favourite post. We have not spoken of San Carlos."
"No, I suppose all your talk has been of Fortress Monroe, Governor's
Island, and West Point," said Mr. Erskine, in a mocking tone. "Those
are the usual first posts for young second lieutenants."
"West Point!" Magnus repeated scornfully. "If you had the faintest
idea, Mr. Erskine, what West Point is _without_ Cherry, you would know
that San Carlos will be the ranking post in the country when she gets
there!"
And the young man sprang to his feet, as if tenter hooks were restless
things.
Mr. Erskine held out his hand. "Forgive me, my boy," he said. "I will
not tease you any more. Go and find my treasure--and take her for
_your_ treasure, and guard her with your life. I do not mean in the
common sense of dying for her, but in the nobler, costlier way of
living for her. Shield her from any touch of shame, from any sense of
loss, from any shadow of pain or sorrow that is not Heaven-sent. Live
so that she will be prouder of you every day. Magnus, my darling is a
_trust_."
There was something very sweet and solemn too in the way Magnus took
the extended hand, and dropping on his knee kissed it earnestly.
"As such I take her, sir. My most dear trust, for every hour I live."
But then he sprang up again, threw his arms round Mr. Erskine with a
hug like a young bear, and with a joyous shout of "Ho for San Carlos!"
darted away into the house to find Cherry.